Chapter 1:Sanctuary Calls
by Sandy Penny
After a whirlwind of packing and moving, Sandy and her three children were now happily ensconced in their little apartment home. Months had passed, and the kids were making friends in the neighborhood and happily settling into their new school.
Although Sandy was still working a full-time job, it felt like she had more free time now that she was not constantly embattled in a marriage that was no longer working. She was writing and meditating again, after a long absence from her favorite activities.
It was a sultry Indian Summer Saturday, and the kids were sleeping in, when Sandy awakened to an insistent voice in her head, “It’s time to create Sanctuary – now.”
She buried her face in her pillow and whined, “Not now, I’m happy in my little apartment recovering from my separation and reclaiming some joy for myself.”
Quietly, and repeatedly, she heard the voice, “It’s time to create Sanctuary.”
“Well,” she spoke back to the voice, “I told you I would do it, but you have to provide the place. I tried to find a place before, and it didn’t work.”
The voice spoke back to her, “It wasn’t time yet, but now it’s time. Start looking for a place, and we’ll help you.”
“Ok, ok, as always, I will do as I am asked,” Sandy sighed and got out of bed.
She called her oldest son’s real estate agent friend and told her she was looking for a place with a room large enough to have events for about 20 people, and room enough for her and her kids plus a few others who might stay there from time to time. And it had to be within her budget.
She was kind of overextended on that front already, so the limit was pretty low for what she was looking for, but that had never stopped her from manifesting an unlikely vision before. She had once asked for a four bedroom home with an office for her and a music room for her husband, with a large kitchen and a fireplace for $450 a month, about half what houses were renting for in Houston at the time, and she amazingly had found one. It was a gift from Spirit. She knew that. So, she began to spend her little bit of extra time looking at houses in her price range.
After a half dozen house reviews, Sandy was beginning to feel like the Goldilocks of house hunting, and her real estate agent was beginning to wonder if she was serious about actually finding a place. It was another Saturday, several weeks after beginning this search, and the prospect of looking at three more places was daunting.
At least the kids were with Richard, which freed her up for unencumbered looking. She put on a happy face and went out to see what her agent had today.
The first house was cute but way too small to host events, and she immediately eliminated it. Then they headed to the Westmoreland Historical District, a nice neighborhood. The house they went into was larger and priced right, but it was laid out like a maze. No Feng Shui there. The energy felt really creepy. She sighed deeply as another house bit the dust. She was beginning to feel that this was a repeat of the last time, and that she would not be able to find anything. It was so frustrating.
As Sandy walked down the outdoor steps, she heard the voice of her guide say, “Sanctuary is across the street.” Her head involuntarily jerked as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. And she heard it again, “Sanctuary is across the street.”
She lifted her head and gazed across the street. She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to clear the vision of what she was seeing. Across the street was a three-story Greek Revival restored historical mansion. It was a beautiful place, and Sandy could only shake her head side to side as if her guide were joking. She said, “I think that’s a little out of my price range.”
Her guide said, “Your realtor can show it to you.” Sandy turned to her realtor and said, “Can you show me the house across the street?”
“Yes, I can. It has a lock box, but it’s way out of your price range.”
Sandy acknowledged that it was, but insisted that she’d like to see it, so they walked over and took a look.
The house had a full front porch with a swing. She loved that. The house was Confederate blue with beige trim. The front door had a lovely etched glass window and brass fixtures. As you enter the foyer, a set of stairs with a landing flows upward on the left, and off to the right, a large formal living room beckons. There is no furniture, and the polished hardwood floors echo their footsteps.
As soon as Sandy walked through the doorway, a feeling washed over her, and she knew this was Sanctuary. She had no idea how she would afford it, but there had to be a way. Spirit would not show it to her and then not support it.
Her favorite room was the sun room that had originally been an outdoor porch, but it had been glassed in. It had floor to ceiling bookshelves and crown molding on the ceiling. Sandy took off an earring and threw it up into the highest bookshelves where no one was likely to find it. It was an old gypsy custom she remembered from a past life. If you want to live in a place, you leave something meaningful that belongs to you, and envision yourself returning and living in the house. She really wanted to live there.
How could this happen? She had no idea, but she trusted that if this was Sanctuary that she would be there. Spirit often had ideas grander than hers and made them happen. And she had to take the leaps of faith to get there.
When they looked at the beautiful kitchen with the 16-foot island with granite countertops, she could envision meals with groups of people sharing the cooking. She could feel herself already there. And it felt great.
As if that weren’t enough, through the bank of French doors at the back of the house was a large swimming pool and a yard that was a triple lot. It was amazing. When Sandy walked out onto the back porch, she discovered that one of the French doors had a broken lock, and although it was shut, you could push on it, and it would come open. She didn't mention it.
She left the realtor with the idea that she would find a way to lease this house. The realtor rolled her eyes and involuntarily shook her head, but she didn’t say anything negative.
Sandy began bringing friends over to see the house. First she brought her kids, and they were immediately claiming their space. They counted on living there. Then she got a phone call from Margaret Rustan saying she had a dream that she was sharing a house with Sandy, so they visited the house together using the French window as an entry. Good thing no alarms were activated. Margaret said she was willing to pay a portion of the rent and be a sort of boarding house tenant, and she could cook too.
Then an old friend, Marilyn came with Matt, Sandy’s oldest son, to visit the house. They both got excited and wanted to live there, and they said they would share the attic space on the third floor. Soon Sandy had gathered enough tenants to share the house and pay the rent and most of the utilities.
The only problem was that the owners wanted a single tenant on the lease, and Sandy didn’t make enough money to qualify to rent the house. Still, she filled out the lease paperwork, and miraculously it was approved. Sometimes it’s best not to question the miracles because trying to make them fit into the usual boxes just won’t work, and may interfere with the miraculous process.
Six weeks after first seeing Sanctuary, on Halloween, 1993, Sandy, Margaret, her kids and a couple of other tenants moved into the house. The yard was filled with ravens that day, and that's not usual in Houston, but it is the animal totem for magic. Sandy noted that and gave thanks.
The first morning there, Margaret and Sandy drank their coffee at the breakfast table looking out the French doors at the shimmering swimming pool, and Margaret said, “Who blinked?” They both laughed.
Obviously, some magical lamp had been rubbed, wishes had been granted, miracles had been performed, and the Sanctuary adventure had begun. Read More ...
